by Becky Vieira posted in Mom Stories

Bleeding. Stitches. Postpartum depression. Breast engorgement. Infections. Exhaustion.
Like most new mothers I was given a list of things to be aware of after my son was born. Postpartum depression was sandwiched somewhere in the middle. I went home from the hospital with a checklist of signs in hand that I promised to be on the lookout for over the next few days, weeks and months.
That was my first mistake.
I expected postpartum depression to be bold, to arrive in the form of well-defined symptoms that couldn?t be ignored. I assumed there would be no way I (or my husband) could miss any of the telltale signs because they'd be obvious, like the flashing lights on the freeway warning you of unsafe road conditions ahead. Because I had read about it and watched for signs in myself, I thought I was on top of things and would know immediately if a problem was brewing. But PPD is sneaky. It doesn't show up at your front door and ring the bell, loudly announcing its presence. It creeps. It takes its time and waits for a moment of weakness to take over. And before you know it you're in the throes of postpartum depression.
It began with a heartbreaking day less than a week after my son was born, when I awoke and couldn?t shake the feeling I wasn?t good enough for him. That I was, and would continue to be, a terrible mother.
I begged my husband to take our son and go to his mom?s house, to be near anyone who could handle motherhood better than I...